


Only You

by riaraccoon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riaraccoon/pseuds/riaraccoon
Summary: Tony Stark's never believed in fate, even after a brief visit with a fortune teller who tells him the name of the person he's supposed to fall in love with: Stephen Strange. But when a phone call 30 years later brings back memories of that conversation about destiny, he's suddenly overwhelmed with the need to chase after the possibility, flying halfway across the world, hot on this Stephen Strange's trail.





	1. Beat It

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you watch dumb romantic comedies just because they have the love of your life in them. I’m gonna regret putting this up because it means I actually have to keep writing this.

Rainbow lights shimmered in the darkness, whirling wildly as Ferris wheels and Tilt-O-Whirls and Merry-Go-Rounds spin their passengers around and around. Children screamed in cheer as they tramped through the amusement park grounds, dragging their indifferent parents along to the next ride. The cloying scent of cotton candy wafted through the air.

“So… what do you want to do?”

Fourteen-year old Tony Stark dug the toe of his sneaker into the wooden planks of the pier, shrugging at his chaperone’s question. He wrinkled his nose but winced as the skin shifted over his bruised face, one eye blackened and nearly swollen shut, dried blood clinging to his cut lip.

Happy Hogan sighed. Twenty-one and employed as Tony’s chaperone, he felt bad for the kid. He looked around, searching for something that might take his charge’s mind off the awful incident from earlier in the day.

“How ‘bout some food?”

Without answering, Tony started to make his way to the food court. Happy followed behind, keeping a close eye on the forlorn teenager. At a booth, Happy stepped forward to order two funnel cakes and they went over to a small table to sit and pick at the fried dessert. It was strange, having this energetic kid before him act so sullen and silent.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Every bite was difficult for Tony, the motion of eating pulling the skin around his wounds, opening the cuts to bleed some more. Once every few chews he’d wipe carefully at his eyes, refusing to let the world around them see him cry.

Happy let him eat in peace, scoping the area around them for any possible danger. The duties of being the chaperone of Howard Stark’s son extend far beyond just driving the kid to and from school. Happy was okay with it, it was a decent job that paid well. And Tony wasn’t much of a hassle, surprisingly.

Tony mumbled something, too quiet to catch with the boisterous shouts of amusement park guests.

Happy leaned in toward his charge. “Sorry, what?”

“It was my fault,” Tony said, louder to let his companion hear him.

“What was your fault?”

The teenager gestured to his face.

Happy frowned. “How was it your fault?”

Tony shrugged, embarrassed. He tore his funnel cake into tiny pieces, letting the powdered sugar coat his fingers. The frown on his face deepened.

“Tony, you can tell me anything.”

“You won’t tell my dad?”

Happy shook his head. “I promise, I won’t tell him anything. You want me to pinky swear? ‘Cause I’ll do it. I’ll be totally mortified, but I’ll do it and I’ll keep it.”

The silly suggestion made Tony’s lips lift into a smirk for a moment.

“Pinky promises are for kids.”

“You are a kid, dipshit.”

“I am not!”

“Well you ain’t an adult.”

Tony huffed out a laugh, but it was short lived, the frown creeping back on his face. He sniffed, wiping again at his face.

“I did something dumb.”

Happy waited, patient. His charge was quite the genius, but he was still a kid, still needing that understanding look, that unconditional support. Happy may not be a genius, but he knew how hard it was to be a kid sometimes.

“I… I asked someone out.”

Happy looked Tony over, watching him fidget in his seat.

“That takes some guts. How does that lead to a busted face?”

It was agonizing watching Tony shake with anxiety. This was so far from normal for the kid genius, who usually acted so confident, so chatty and excited.

“It was Ty Stone.”

For a few moments, Happy couldn’t register what Tony had said. He sat back, mulling over the information.

“That kid you hang out with from your calculus class?”

Tony’s head barely tipped in a nod. The tears were free-flowing now, trickling down his black and blue face.

“I asked him out after school and…” Tony gestured to his eye. “I’m so stupid.”

It broke Happy’s heart to see Tony so upset, so utterly humiliated by not just a rejection, but a brutal retaliation for expressing his feelings for another boy. A boy who was supposed to be his friend. Tony put up a tough façade in front of most people, but Happy knew that this kid was so kindhearted on the inside.

“Fuck that kid.”

Tony’s head snapped up, brown eyes as wide as the bruises would allow. “What?”

“You heard me. Ty Stone can go choke on a cactus.” Happy leaned in conspiratorially toward Tony. “I’ll kick his ass for you, boss. You say the word and I’ll give him a right hook he won’t forget.”

A startled laugh burst from Tony’s mouth. He nibbled at his bottom lip. “You don’t… you don’t think I’m weird? For asking a guy out?”

Happy gave him a wide smile. “Kid, you can like whatever you want. Guy, girl, alien. Anyone who says otherwise will have to answer to me.”

Tony gave a timid, watery smile. “Thanks, Happy.”

“No problem, boss.” Happy looked around. “How ‘bout we do some fun stuff before we head out?”

 

* * *

 

Hesitant, Tony stepped into the dim room, giving the dark draperies and warm candlelight a bitter, disapproving look. Spicy incense burned, filling the space with a smoky quality. A table with two chairs sat in the middle of the tiny room, a large crystal ball sitting on top reflecting the astrology tablecloth beneath it.

An older woman stepped out from behind a curtain, draped in extravagant fabrics and jewelry, greying hair long and loose around her shoulders. She barely cast a glance at Tony as she took her place at the table.

“You here to get your fortune told, or what?”

Tony sucked in a deep breath and went to sit across the table from the fortune teller.

“This is so stupid,” he muttered under his breath, hunched over in the chair.

“Then why are you here, Tony Stark?” the fortune teller asked, shuffling a deck of tarot cards.

Startled, Tony’s jerked his head up. “How’d you know my name?”

The woman set aside the tarot cards and absently ran her hands over the crystal ball. “The spirits tell me a lot. But then, you don’t believe in any of this stuff, do you?”

“Magic doesn’t exist.” Tony was confident in his response.

“So you say. Do you want me to tell your future or not? I’d rather not waste my time any longer and I have other customers.” She gave the teenager a hard look, holding out a hand.

Tony mulled over her words before pulling two dollar bills out of the back pocket of his jeans and slapping them into the woman’s outstretched hand. He sat back in the chair and crossed his arms. He couldn’t fathom why he wanted this even though he didn’t believe in this shit.

The fortune teller tucked the money into the bodice of her dress and began running her hands over the crystal ball again. “Do you have any specific questions you’d like answered?”

“Not really. What do people normally ask?”

“Hmm, if they’ll be successful or rich in their future. When they will die and how. A lot about their romantic future, who they will marry, that sort of thing. People are not very original.”

Tony thought over the questions. None of them were particularly interesting, but his earlier predicament kept swirling in his head. Would there be anyone who could love someone like him? The rich kid genius who liked guys as much as girls? The thought of ever finding someone who would like him for who he was sent his stomach swirling with fear and anxiety. He rolled with wounded lip around between his teeth, opening the scab and sucking some of the blood into his mouth and letting it slide across his tongue and down his throat.

“I guess… I dunno. Will I find someone who, y’know… likes me?”

He’d never felt more stupid in his life, asking a fortune teller if he’ll find someone who had a romantic interest in him. He slouched further down in his seat, cheek flush with embarrassment.

Tony had to give the woman credit for really playing up the act. He watched as she looked hard into the crystal ball, running patterns over the clear solid, as if searching the universe for the answer to his question, writing out a question to the spirits. Her bracelets jingled and clinked against the ball. Tony realized that there was soft, ethereal music playing in the background and he had to refrain from letting out a snort of laughter.

“Stephen Strange,” the woman said, sitting back and rolling her shoulders.

“What?”

“The person you wish to know about is named Stephen Strange. He will lead you to your destiny.”

A snort slipped from Tony. “Stephen Strange? Huh, what a dumb name.”

“I don’t control what names people own.” She raised an eyebrow. “Any more questions? It’ll be another two dollars.”

Tony shook his head, standing. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”

He set off for the door, but the woman’s voice stopped him.

“Tony Stark.”

Tony turned back to her. She had a soft, thoughtful look on her face.

“Futures can be changed. You are a smart boy, don’t let what others decide your course for you.”

A chill ran down Tony’s spine. That was an odd feeling. He gave the fortune teller a curt nod and stepped out the door and back into the chaos of the amusement park where Happy was waiting, the doorbell jangling in his wake.


	2. Under Pressure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes – Okay. I’m super nervous about continuing to write this because I want it to be good and while I put on an IDGAF face to the world, I actually GAF a lot, y’know… deep down. Really deep down.
> 
> Also, I apologize for any accidental slips between past and present tense. I’ve been solely focusing on screenwriting for the past like, nine months, so I’m in the habit of writing in present tense, and it’s been pretty flippin’ difficult to switch back to past tense.

“A toast to the happy couple!”

Decorations coated the living area of the mansion, streamers and balloons all in red and blue and gold, shimmering under dim lit chandeliers. Streamers rustled in the wake of tipsy party guests raising their glasses to Happy’s pronouncement, eyes drawn to the couple in reference.

Tony grinned at the group as he stood next to his fiancé, and cast a glance up to him. Steve Rogers, ex-military officer turned professional concept artist, six feet of muscle and chivalry. Steve slung an arm around Tony’s shoulders and gave him a soft look that Tony unintentionally began to shy away from before relaxing.

He watched Pepper approach from the side, patting Steve’s arm before pulling Tony into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you, Tony.”

Tony buried his face into her shoulder as he hugged her back, letting her soft hair hide him from the guests and from Steve.

Frowning, Pepper turned her head to whisper to him.

“You okay?”

Tony muttered something that she couldn’t hear, and then shook his head, barely perceptible.

“How about we go outside,” she suggested, handing her drink to Happy as he stepped up beside them. A slight nod. Pepper looked to Happy, giving a half smile. “I think he’s a bit overwhelmed. We’re gonna step outside for a minute.”

Steve glanced over, taking in Tony pressing his head into Pepper’s shoulder.

“Hey, you alright, Tony?”

Pepper smiled, waving a hand. “You know how he gets sometimes. We’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Steve said as he briefly touched Tony’s back. Tony stepped back from Pepper and barely turned his head, shooting a small smile to his fiancé.

Head down, Tony let Pepper lead him through the glass door out to the balcony, the cacophony of revelry following them. The briny air swept across his warm skin and he inhaled deeply, going over to lean against the railing as Pepper shut the door behind them, muffling the ruckus of the engagement party carrying on in the house. The waves below crashed against the cliffside, glinting with pinks and oranges as the sun set before them.

Pepper sidled up to Tony, allowing the quiet to settle around them. The two of them watched the sun dip below the horizon, the sky reposing into lavender and steel blue.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Pep.” Tony dropped his chin to his chest, taking deep breaths. “I should be happy, right?”

Pepper placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, gently massaging. She waited, knowing there was more he needed to say.

“I mean, Steve… He’s... And I love him, I do! At least, I think I do. But there’s this gnawing feeling in my chest that’s just eating at me, and I don’t know what to make of it.” He turned his body toward Pepper and ran a hand through his styled hair, tugging at the strands.

Pepper let her hand settle on his forearm, catching a glint of wetness in Tony’s eyes. “Is it nerves?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” He didn’t sound convinced of that answer.

“What is it, Tony?”

Tony looked out to the darkening ocean, sun still clinging to the sky with desperation. He sniffed, wrinkling his nose.

_A flash of cool blue eyes gazing into cornflower ones, as if they held the answers to the universe. Loyalty, beyond measure, beyond comparison. He couldn’t compete with that._

Tony shook his head, desperate to clear the image from his mind. He gave Pepper a flash of a smile, swiftly brushing aside any sign of distress.

“It’s nothing, Pep. Just nerves. Ready to go back in?”

Pepper’s grip stopped him from heading for the door, her eyes searching his for answers. She could almost see the walls sliding up, closing the world off from the sight of Tony Stark in any kind of anguish.

“Tony…” She stopped herself for a moment, calculating before resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering him. She let her hand fall away from his forearm before reaching up to adjust his tie and smooth down the lapels of his suit jacket. “There. Ready for a thousand more pictures.”

“A thousand more drinks, more like.” He grinned at her, only a touch of sadness lingering. He gestured for her to lead the way and the two returned to the party.

 

* * *

 

Tony and Rhodey walked behind the last of the party guests and bartenders and caterers, waving goodbye to Happy and Pepper as they sank into their car and drove away, followed by many other vehicles of guests and caterers. Tony swore he could see a hint of concern in Pepper’s eyes as they drove off.

“So, what were you and Pepper talking about?” Rhodey asked, turning to his friend.

Midnight had passed long ago, and the black sky twinkled with stars. The two stood in the brilliance of the outdoor porch lights, casting dark shadows across the driveway. Tony glanced through the glass front door, watching Steve clean up glasses and small bits of trash in the dim lit living room. He could hear golden oldies music still playing over the speaker system, muffled by the glass. His chest tightened as he watched Steve walking back and forth with the trash can.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?” Tony looked to Rhodey, curiosity and concern painting his friend’s features.

“I asked what you and Pep were talking about when you two went outside. You looked upset.”

Tony waved his hand, trying to brush aside the topic. “Nothing. I was just filling a little sick for a second. It passed.”

The look Rhodey gave him could cut down even the most resilient of men, and even after nearly 30 years of friendship, Tony still found it difficult to resist. It wasn’t the same as Pepper’s soft gaze of concern. This was the look of weaseling the information out of him, whether he wanted to give it up or not.

Rhodey clasped a hand to his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. “I know it wasn’t that.”

“Did Pepper talk to you? ‘Cause you know, I feel a little ganged up on now. Whose gonna be next? Happy? Clint!? You know he’s really good at all that emotional stuff. It’s just nerves. Doesn’t everyone get nerves when they’re making big life decisions? I mean—”

Rhodey released Tony’s shoulder and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, man. Okay. You know we’re just looking out for you.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Tony nodded. “I’m fine. Really!”

Rhodey’s cellphone buzzed in his pocket briefly and he pulled it out, looking at the screen. He huffed out a laugh. “Pepper says to remind you that you two are going out to lunch tomorrow to do some wedding planning, and to check to make sure you’re okay.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “If I have to say fine one more time— Why’s she texting you? I have a fully functioning phone of my own. And why do I even have to plan the wedding? Make it a casual barbeque and be done with it.”

Rhodey’s phone buzzed again. He chortled at the content. “She says to tell you that she’s texting me because you’ll ignore her texts because you hate shopping for anything that isn’t tech or stupid t-shirts with cats in space on them, and that you’re not having a barbeque for your wedding, nor are you wearing jeans. Be ready by 10:30. In the morning.”

“She has cameras watching me at all times, I swear.”

“I think she just knows you too well,” Rhodey replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He held out a hand. “Congratulations, man. I’m really happy for you.”

Tony returned the gestured and pulled him into a hug. “Thanks, honey bear.”

Rhodey pulled away, pointing at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever, platypus. See you later.”

Rhodey shook his head and waved as he walked down the drive to his car, climbing in and driving off into the night.

Tony let a small smile drift across his face before turning back to the front door and stepping inside, letting the golden oldies roll over him, the smell of stale fondue chocolate making itself known from the dining area. He ignored the chocolate fountain, he’d throw it out before he took the time to clean it. Steve, however, would heavily object. Wastefulness, and all that.

“Hey,” Steve said as Tony came into the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do all that, Steve.” Tony gestured to the clean counters and the loaded dishwasher. He snatched up one of the leftover canapes piled on a serving tray, scarfing it down in one bite.

Steve shrugged, smiling and setting his dish towel on the edge of the sink. “You know I don’t mind.” He walked over to Tony, placing his hands on his arms. There was tenderness in his eyes, and worry. “You—”

“Please don’t ask me if I’m okay,” Tony begged, interrupting him. “I’ve probably been asked that at least a dozen times tonight. I’m fine, really. I just… got a little sick. Too many warm bodies.”

Steve nodded, pulling Tony into a hug and pressing his lips to the top of his head. Tony clung to Steve’s button-up, breathing in the clean, floral scent of laundry detergent. How did it manage to linger so long? He rubbed his cheeks against Steve’s chest, determined to let go of that little nagging memory that kept cropping up, to burn away that tightness in his chest.

“I love you, Tony,” Steve mumbled, smiling into Tony’s hair.

A little hitch caught in Tony’s throat. He seemed to mean it, why can’t he let it go? “Love you, too.”

Steve leaned back a bit. “Ready for bed?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”


End file.
